


Changed, for Good

by caspaar



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Awkward Hubert von Vestra, Broken Hubert von Vestra, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Forced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Hubert von Vestra, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sex Work, post crimson flower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28207221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caspaar/pseuds/caspaar
Summary: Part of the reason Hubert found he could hate his father and the choices that despicable man had made in his lifetime was because he was the one to initiate the meeting between his son and the duke in question. With a clap on the back and a stern, “Do what you must for the Hresvelg bloodline,” a young and terrified Hubert lost what little he had of himself in the rough throes of the desire of a seedy, disgusting noble who assumed his secrets about the empire were falling on deaf, childlike ears. Upon coming back to the palace with a head hung and tears streaking down his cheeks, the only thing Marquis Vestra only cared to hear about was anything that the duke in question had to say about the empire. Oh, and that Edelgard would be away from the palace for a few months, not to worry.Something about that had caused a true fracture in  Hubert von Vestra...............Hubert von Vestra has lived his entire life as a victim of the powerful society of nobles in the Adrestian Empire, and of their wicked ways and secrets. It isn't until a certain fiery redhead steps into his world and causes mayhem, self-doubt and a new feeling. Love? A word Hubert has never known.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez & Linhardt von Hevring, Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Dorothea Arnault & Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Ferdinand von Aegir & Hubert von Vestra, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, My Unit | Byleth & Seteth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	1. Academy Phase

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CountvonVestra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountvonVestra/gifts).



> i tried to keep the mentions of the underaged prostitution and dub-con to a minimum, since this is really a touchy subject for me, but loved the idea of this so much. please enjoy! i'll have this split into exactly three chapters: pre-timeskip, war phase, and post war. please enjoy!
> 
> inspired by the wonderful @CountvonVestra on twitter!

It began when he was around only ten years old.

Part of the reason Hubert found he could hate his father and the choices that despicable man had made in his lifetime was because he was the one to initiate the meeting between his son and the duke in question. With a clap on the back and a stern, “Do what you must for the Hresvelg bloodline,” a young and terrified Hubert lost what little he had of himself in the rough throes of the desire of a seedy, disgusting noble who assumed his secrets about the empire were falling on deaf, childlike ears. Upon coming back to the palace with a head hung and tears streaking down his cheeks, Marquis Vestra only cared to hear about was whatever the duke in question had to say about the empire, nothing more and nothing less. Oh, to mention that Edelgard would be away from the palace for a few months, not to worry.

Something about that had caused a true fracture in Hubert von Vestra. From that night on, Hubert had decided he would put up a strong front against any emotion that threatened to spill from him. Cool and collected at all times, he steeled himself as his father continued to sell him to whichever seedy noble desired him. He’d become quite good at becoming an emotionless shell of himself during these times. Smiling when he needed to. Giving false compliments to whoever bedded him that night. And deftly, elegantly slipping the odorless, tasteless concoction his father had taught him to make into their drink before the sex. “Guaranteed to get the truth through more darker, magical means,” Marquis Vestra had told him before handing it off. 

When Edelgard had come back to the palace, she was different. Shining brown curls and a wide smile were instead replaced by long, straight silvery locks and a rather stony look. And her eyes… once blue and bright were now a startling shade of violet and stared around at everyone with a steely glare. When the two of them found themselves alone, she had explained. Tears, for the first time in so long, found their way into his eyes. He had failed his duty to protect his Lady. According to the young princess, the corpses of her lost siblings lay discarded in the dungeons beneath the palace, failures to a procedure that had caused her months of agonising pain. Speaking of the crest implanted into her body, Edelgard bitterly gave him the names of her tormentors and those who conspired against the Hresvelgs. On that first night of her return, the two began their plot, and for the first time Hubert found he would quite enjoy stealing the secrets of those who would give up their bodies. 

By the time he was sixteen years of age, Hubert could tell anyone the preferences and body of any noble in the Empire, apart from those of his generation and the Emperor, of course. When he was told that he would be enrolled in just two years' time at Garreg Mach Monastery, his stomach felt as if it had been suddenly full of lead. The idea of spending his days with the children of people who had taken advantage and defiled him, who he had given himself to unwillingly time and time again for the sake of the Imperial Household… well, it frightened him. A boy who had spent his life separating himself from the feeling of fear, from the grip of such weakness that would topple his position as the future as the Minister of the Imperial Household finally knew what it was like to feel raw fear. 

To have to look at those faces every day, to see their parents’ faces within their own. To have to remain calm, cool and collected as he remembered things about their family that he wished he did not know. Or worse, to continue to be shackled by this disgusting duty now that he was to be close to other royals, nobles and the like from the neighbouring kingdoms. For the first time since he was a child, Hubert had excused himself that night to vomit as quietly as possible from the stress of the thoughts running through his head. 

Of course, it was just as he had thought. When the time came for Hubert and Edelgard to leave the royal palace, his father reminded him to get close to those who resided in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance. Given supplies to make the secretive Vestra recipe for capturing secrets, Hubert was sent off to do his duty for Edelgard. And that was really the hardest part of the entire situation: keeping his pain from his closest friend, his Emperor to be, his closest thing to love. He knew she would disapprove, rightfully so. Knowing that her path to tearing down the Church of Seiros and uniting a better Fodlan came at the sacrifice of Hubert’s dignity would hurt her in such a deep way. As they left to begin the journey, Hubert vowed to keep this secret from any who resided in the Black Eagle house. It would do him no good for any of them to meddle and destroy what he was working for.

That afternoon he had said goodbye to his father and promised himself that he would continue this, yes, but on his own terms. For himself, for Edelgard, and for the future they had planned together.

  
  


* * *

  
  


With a groan, he pulled himself off of his bed partner, wiping at the sweat pooling at his brow. God, how he hated the smirk the redhead next to him was giving as he stared at the ceiling. He prayed silently to the false Goddess that Sylvain Gautier would rally behind his king when the time came and Hubert would personally be able to cut him down on the battlefield. The thought of it brought a smile to his face, which did not go unnoticed by his bedmate. 

“Enjoy yourself, Vestra?” Sylvain asked in a husky, sex hazed voice as he rolled himself to his side. Hubert curled his lip in distaste as he began to stand, eyes searching the floor for his clothing. There was no reason for him to stay behind. After all, both of them had gotten what they wanted from the union. It hadn’t taken Hubert much to find out where Sylvain typically spent his nights in the village below the monastery, get close enough with banter to hold his attention instead of the gaggle of commoners that surrounded him, and slip a few drops of his concoction into the redhead’s mead. Before the two of them drank enough to head back to the monastery with words of flirtation and touching to keep them busy, Sylvain opened to him like a fascinating book on the inner workings of the famed Faerghus Four. 

Soon a very drunk and drugged Sylvain began telling him of the weaknesses that insufferable would be king, Prince Dimitri. He spoke of the tension between Felix Fraldarius and the Prince, and then proceeded to voice concern for the prejudice between Ingrid Galatea and the Prince’s vassal, Deduce Molinaro. To Hubert, it would seem that the inner workings of the future leaders of the Holy Kingdom were already falling apart at the seams, which would make it far easier to tear down the King before he even touched the throne, and to convince their current professor, a new, young mercenary named Byleth, that recruiting members of the Blue Lion house would be easy and beneficial to the Black Eagles. 

In the moment, however, Hubert didn’t bother to hide his disgust for the self proclaimed slut of the officer’s academy. After all, his work was done and he never had to tolerate such a vapid, useless excuse for a man again. “Your technique could use some improvement, Gautier,” he huffed as he lifted his pants from the floor and began dressing himself. “You’d think someone with so much experience would even bother to learn how to properly pleasure a companion.” Sylvain betrayed his confusion as he watched Hubert moving quickly around the room. They’d gone to Sylvain’s room after making their way back to the monastery, and all Hubert needed to do was silently make his way from this room at the end of the corridor, down to his own at the very other end without being seen. 

“Hey, too good to spend the night?”

Hubert’s lip curled as he buttoned his shirt and proceeded to drape his jacket over one arm. What an idiot this man was, it was no wonder he had been such an easy target for Hubert to manipulate. “I think I would rather be caught within Lysithea’s Hades Ω than spend another minute in your company, Gautier,” he drawled before making his leave, a pouting Sylvain staring after him. 

Once in the hall, Hubert ran a hand annoyedly, the feeling of dirt sat heavy upon him. Goddess above, he would need a bath as soon as he could find a moment to get one. Quietly, he straightened and began his descent down the corridor, careful to keep his footfalls light and meld into shadow as he made his way down. Blaiddyd… Fraldarius… von Reigan… stairs. With all the grace of a feline, Hubert began to descend the stairs and fell short one single stair in the darkness, tripping himself up loudly. Standing frozen in the darkness, he could barely breathe as he waited. For what seemed like an eternity, Hubert paused. All seemed quiet, thankfully, and Hubert straightened himself out. After all, he only needed to make it passed where he was in front of von Aegir’s door, passed von Bergliez, and there was his own room.

But, as Hubert made his first step towards his escape, the door to his left flung open and a furious Ferdinand von Aegir stood in his evening clothes, mouth poised to scold whichever unfortunate bedmate of Sylvain Gautier had been passing by his room in the night. Hubert remembered in that moment that he had, in the past, heard Ferdinand stopping young, startled commoners that left Sylvain’s room in the night. How foolish of him not to consider this while planning to ensnare Gautier!

Ferdinand puffed to begin his usual speech on honor, chastity, and nobility but stopped short when he realised that his victim was Hubert. Amber eyes widened to glassy orbs as the realisation dawned on him, and Hubert felt himself growing hot in the cheeks. How peculiar of a reaction, he noted. “Hubert? But… What are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?!”

The pitch of the redhead’s voice was, as usual, far too high and Hubert made quick work of it before someone else came out into the hall to shame him for the work he had been doing in the night, or worse, Lady Edelgard found out. Darting forward, Hubert shoved a gloved hand over the startled young man’s mouth and pushed him back into his room with the weight of his own body. Kicking closed the door behind him with his foot, he finally released Ferdinand, who was red in the face and positively fuming. “What is the meaning of this, Hubert!” he hissed, wiping his mouth unceremoniously with the back of his hand, as if to get the taste of his assailant off of his lips. 

“Quiet your frail sensibilities, von Aegir, before you awaken the entire academy with your nonsense. I shall explain the best I can,” he hissed back, straightening himself out. He was almost completely confident that the scuffle would not have awoken Caspar in the room next to them, or Linhardt in the room below them, but he could never be sure where Claude von Reigan could be sticking his nose. If he had finally come back to the dormitories from his near permanent spot in the library, there was a chance they had startled him into consciousness. Before him, Ferdinand narrowed his eyes, but moved to sit on the edge of his bed, cautiously gesturing to Hubert to sit in the chair across from him. “Thank you,” Hubert responded politely before sitting down and crossing one leg.

“Now, where to begin… and what to reveal,” he began, looking at Ferdinand up and down curiously. It made Hubert feel at ease in a way that the younger von Aegir didn’t look like his father, a man that had taken advantage of the twisted von Vestra tradition since it had been passed down to Hubert. “Alright. This evening, I did spend the evening with Sylvain Gautier, if you must be so persistent. No! Silence!” Hubert hissed, holding a hand out in annoyance as Ferdinand furiously opened his mouth to berate him about some sense of honour or nobility. Hubert did not have the time or the patience at this point in the night to deal with Ferdinand’s annoying holier-than-thou attitude, and was more likely than not going to hit him with his Dark Spikes T if he kept it up.

There was an audible pop as Ferdinand quickly closed his mouth, looking at Hubert unhappily as he folded his arms across his chest. Hubert smirked at the childlike nature that Ferdinand had revealed. It almost made sitting with him tolerable. Hubert found himself surprised that there could be a side of Ferdinand von Aegir that he could tolerate at all. “Thank you. Now, while you are just so intent on becoming the next Prime Minister of the Empire, and with battling with the future Emperor of the Adrestian Empire like some sort of spoiled child, some of us have to get our hands dirty in order to keep this future happening.”

Ferdinand stared at Hubert, surprised. What a gentle look, Hubert thought, noting that this was possibly the first time Ferdinand had ever looked at him gently. “Hubert… what are they making you do?” Something about the gentle concern in his voice, so quiet and authentic, well, it startled him. Hubert had to fight his natural fight-or-flight instincts as he thought of an appropriate answer. There was none. Ferdinand stared at him sadly. “Is there anything I can help you with, Hubert? I wish for you to not have to do anything you would not like to do.”

The innocence in the statement awoke Hubert from his startled stupor and he snorted through his nose. Of course, of course Ferdinand would be the type to think there was some sort of way out for Hubert, as if he had not been spending these last eight years of his life as a slave to the desires of seedy, corrupt nobles. As if he could just turn his back on this aspect of his responsibility to his Lady and her cause. No, Hubert had to do this. Even considering that he could run away from this hell he lived in every day was dangerous. It would prompt him to run in fear from these choices like a weakling if he thought about it too much. Coming into this room was a mistake, and every moment he made eye contact with the boy across from him, he realised it a little more. “It isn’t that simple, Aegir,” he finally said, averting his eyes. There was emotion in his voice this time, and his eyes burned, as if his body was threatening him with emotions.

Ferdinand stood in that moment, moving to be by his side, where he crouched to look up at Hubert. What an intimate pose he had chosen, and then made a movement to rest a hand on top of Hubert’s folded ones. “ _Hubert_ …” 

Before he could say more or finish moving to touch him, Hubert stood with a start. With a cruel snarl, Hubert glowered down at the now startled redhead before him. How Hubert would love to slap the pretty porcelain skin of his reddening cheeks. Magic crackled in the air around him, threatening to take form as Hubert began to lose his temper. How dare someone like him show pity, sympathy for someone like Hubert von Vestra? He was not some sort of sad commoner that was simply there for Ferdinand to take in and fix. That was not how this worked, and he would rather find himself dead at the hands of a Kingdom soldier than share any emotion or tribulation with Ferdinand von Aegir, of all people in this world.

“You will not speak of this to anyone, or you will find yourself impaled on a spike, magical or otherwise, do you understand?” Ferdinand nodded, looking nearly frightened by the outburst. With that, Hubert turned on his heel and began to march from the room, not caring when the door slammed behind him. There was the sound of someone stirring in their room, and Hubert quickly ducked into his own room. For a moment, he considered if he had been too cruel to spit in Ferdinand’s face as he offered genuine concern, something that Hubert had not expected from anyone like him. 

No. Hubert thought for a moment as he began to undress for bed, remembering his own personal duty and how Ferdinand was simply a nuisance in his way. Allowing someone like Ferdinand into his world would quite possibly be the worst mistake that Hubert could possibly make.


	2. War-Phase: Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, my,” Ferdinand spoke, stopping them short and turning to look up into Hubert’s curious gaze. He used his free arm to lift a hand to his hair, tucking it behind an ear. It took a surprising amount of effort for Hubert to not gasp aloud at the sight of the blues, greens and pinks shining across his tanned skin. “I hadn’t paid attention to where I was going. I was simply so caught up in walking along with you.”
> 
> There was a tug in Hubert’s chest, which pulled tightly when he pulled his arm free to face Ferdinand properly, still keeping an unnaturally close proximity to the general’s overwhelming body heat. Ferdinand stared up at him as he did so, a pleased smile across his face and an expectant look in his amber eyes, staring up through thick ginger lashes.
> 
> ...
> 
> As Ferdinand von Aegir returns to Garreg Mach after being away on the battlefield for multiple years, and Hubert begins to prepare for his arrival celebration, pondering his strong desire to see his former rival. But when Ferdinand catches Hubert in the act of submitting and pleasing Arundel out in the gardens during the celebration, Hubert must face Ferdinand as a broken, beaten down courtesan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! thanks for giving this a read! in this chapter, we hop forward into the war phase, where hubie and ferdie are closer! there is less talk of the sexual abuse in this chapter, a scene involving arundel feeling up hubert and calling him a wh*re, but ferdie swiftly comes in to help his favourite mage. there will be talk of the abuse, sex between hubert and ferdinand in the next chapter, which is where the e rating comes in!! so close, we're almost there! 
> 
> this chapter also has a special appearance of seteleth and casphardt! enjoy!!

“Report, _now_."

The sound of Hubert’s boots made a satisfying tap-tap-tap as he made his way swiftly through the corridors of the third floor, a panicked mage from his battalion trailing behind with papers in hand as they tried to find exactly what he was asking for. Something about walking through these areas brought a small bit of joy to the surface, despite the war and disrepair around them. Oh, if Rhea could see them now. Of course, it did not do for the Emperor of the Adrestian Empire to sleep in an old and tiny room in the dormitories like the rest of the Black Eagle Strike Force had begun to do, and Hubert had insisted they remove the locks from the Archbishop’s quarters and she would room there. It was only right that such a supreme ruler should have the finest rooms in the monastery, after all. Edelgard had put up a fuss initially, but he had won out when he pulled his Minister of the Imperial Household card on her.

Behind him, the young mage began rattling off statistics, names of Kingdom generals, damage reports, and the current locations of all Alliance lords. They had suffered quite the loss at the border of the Alliance and Empire, no thanks to that insufferable oaf, the “King of Brawling” that Claude von Reigan had begun to employ to work off some debts. Despite his idiotic demeanor, the man seemed to be capable as a leader, and Ferdinand had suffered his first loss as one of the highest ranked generals in the Empire’s army. The thought of Ferdinand von Aegir momentarily caused Hubert to become rather pensive as he walked, and the sounds of his lackey’s voice droning on went quiet in his mind.

Of course, von Bergliez, von Aegir and Petra had taken up roles as leading generals when they weren’t working together as the Strike Force. While Caspar often handled hearty skirmishes that kept him active and served as a means to satiate his need to fight, and Petra had been handling more reconnaissance type missions, Ferdinand von Aegir had stepped up after his role had shifted and became one of their most fierce knights, aside from Jeritza von Hrym and his curious Death Knight. Word came from the Kingdom and Alliance that not many would like to cross lances with him, which made Hubert almost proud, in a way. After all, Edelgard originally wanted him by their side to help make decisions, but Hubert had gently nudged her towards the idea of giving up a section of their soldiers to Ferdinand, giving him multiple battalions and sending him out to make quick work of their problems. The Red Knight of the Empire was Hubert von Vestra’s doing, and up until now, his Red Knight had made him proud time and time again.

There was, however, a small part of him that did miss having Ferdinand around. It was nice to have someone around at all times to challenge him, someone to take out anger on, and someone to simply talk to when all other avenues were occupied. And to hear his voice rising through the halls, full of an unnatural cheer that Hubert once had identified as ignorance and idiocy. Now, he would be happy to hear it once more. Once the war had been declared, Hubert saw Ferdinand in a different light. He had approached Hubert and explained that he was interested in joining not because he had no other option, but because he truly believed in their cause. And when prompted about the change to his family’s position as Prime Minister, well, Ferdinand was a bit put out. That was undeniable. But something flashed in those globe-like amber eyes, a fire not previously seen by Hubert. He promised he would swear his lance to the new Emperor, regardless. Since their initial victory over the Church of Seiros, Hubert had seen little of Ferdinand von Aegir, merely reports from lackeys.

“Dismissed,” he drawled, waving off the mage as they reached the ornate doors of Edelgard’s chambers. With a quick bow, they turned and rushed back to make it to the stairs before Hubert changed his mind, which pulled a quiet chuckle from his chest. He turned, knocking gently with a gloved hand, which was followed by the sound of his Lady responding with a, “Yes?”

Pushing open the door, the room was still dark, despite the sun rising outside the windows. Drapes had been pulled over most of them, save for the one behind the vanity and one near the door. Sitting up with feet dangling over the edge of the four poster bed at the centre of the room, Hubert saw Edelgard yawning and giving a quick stretch. He smiled apologetically, quickly scurrying in and closing the door quietly behind him. “My apologies, your Majesty,” he began, making his way to the chair that accompanied the vanity to have a seat. At nearly all times, Hubert was as formal as possible, but during their early morning chats, he often allowed himself to speak not just to his Lady or Emperor, but to his friend. It had become tradition. “I know I’m a bit earlier than usual, I had to get up early to begin preparations for Ferdinand’s return. And to welcome your uncle into the monastery.”

From behind Edelgard, the sheets of the bed began to rustle, and a very groggy Dorothea Arnault lifted herself onto her elbows, not even showing the decency to cover her naked body more than just the sheet draped across a small part of her breasts. Hubert should’ve known that Dorothea would be here. Most nights, she came to visit Edelgard, and if it weren’t for the secrecy of their relationship from the commoners and their army, he was sure Dorothea would just move herself into this room. “Ferdie’s coming home today?” she asked through a deep yawn, moving close enough to Edelgard to lean against her back. “I thought that was next week?”

Hubert felt his lip curling in annoyance at the display Dorothea was making, despite simply enjoying the time she had with her partner. Across from him, Edelgard gave him a sharp look, warning him not to take on such an expression and start an argument, which he begrudgingly gave in to. He knew that the two of them had been subtly courting one another since their school days, and being side by side during a war was certainly bringing them closer than before. Meanwhile, Hubert had to, instead, act almost as a babysitter to the rest of the former Black Eagles and field Volkhard Arundel in the only way he knew how. Multiple times since the start of their time creating a base out of Garreg Mach, Edelgard had been baffled by the fact that Hubert was able to distract and satisfy her uncle. Hubert couldn’t stomach the idea of her finding out that the only way he could think of to distract him was with his body, just as he had been doing for the past thirteen years of his life. The cycle never broke.

“Yes, that is today. Caspar has already arrived and is no doubt annoying Linhardt while he gets patched up from his latest scuffle,” he drolled, averting his eyes from the pair of them and instead fixating on the window, where the sun was now bursting through the treeline. “Do keep up, Arnault.”

“Hubie, you’re so grumpy, but we all can see how you miss Ferdie dearly,” Dorthea began, pulling the sheet tighter around her body as she sat up to properly take a look at him. Hubert felt himself stiffen at the implication. It was true, Ferdinand von Aegir being around Garreg Mach caused a spike in morale, and that it was nice to have someone around that could keep up with him intellectually during their bickering, but to use a word with weight to it like _miss_? Surely not. Something welled up in Hubert’s stomach, causing him to shift uncomfortably under Dorothea and Edelgard’s gazes. “You can admit you like people, I know there’s a heart in there somewhere.”

Hubert couldn’t stand the tone in her voice, which prompted him to stand abruptly. “I’ll be going to check that the kitchens have prepared for Ferdinand’s welcome feast,” he choked out, crossing his arms in front of himself defensively. “Ferdinand shall be arriving just before noon, I would advise the two of you to be ready by then. The soldiers have been looking forward to this celebration and it would do well to have the Imperial Emperor and the Imperial Mage amongst their ranks when he arrives.” 

With that, Hubert became increasingly annoyed at the knowing smiles they both gave him and turned on his heel, stalking back into the corridor with a newfound speed. Once the door was closed behind him, he caught himself against the wall, releasing the breath he didn’t realise he was holding in. His cheeks burned hot at Dorothea’s taunting, and his head spun. What a peculiar reaction this was. Hubert had never experienced anything like it before, but had heard from Bernadetta that often people acted as such when emotions were involved. Hubert snorted and stood straight. Surely Hubert von Vestra, the right hand to the Emperor, known as her “pet snake,” could compose himself in the face of such taunting. 

As he made his way through the ancient, crumbling monastery, however, his thoughts became clouded with a thrilling desire for the day to hurry along so he could see Ferdinand once more. He wasn’t entirely sure where the change in their relationship happened, to be honest. Once the war began and Edelgard began delegating the duties of the Black Eagle Strike Force, Hubert and Ferdinand had grown to tolerate one another more. It had been difficult at first, of course. Ferdinand had a way of cutting through any peaceful moment with his wit and opinions, and Hubert could barely tolerate it most days. But, as time wore on for that first year, they’d begun to form a truce, even waking in the earliest hours to enjoy a morning cup of coffee and tea. Their chats in the gardens through sleep filled yawns and drowsy smiles had been such a bright spot in the busy days that Hubert had taken on.

But, then Ferdinand began yearning to prove himself on the battlefield. “I want to prove myself somehow. I need to make a name for _myself_ , with the House of Aegir destroyed,” he’d suddenly told Hubert with a tone so sad, and yet determined, that Hubert became captivated. The sun had risen enough from the hedges that it perfectly shone behind Ferdinand’s head, illuminating his sad expression as if he were a portrait. That was when Hubert made his decision to push Edelgard to have him lead large parts of the Imperial army. And what a general he had become.

Straightening out, Hubert pushed such thoughts from his mind as he approached the kitchens. It would do him no good to think of the past when so much was coming for the future on this day. Becoming Minister of the Imperial Household had somehow translated to Hubert running most of Garreg Mach until they could all return to the Imperial Palace. He had to keep a clear head in order to make sure everything would be perfectly in its place for the celebrations to come.

* * *

  
  


“ _Hubert_ ,” the voice behind him said in a sickly sweet tone, unbefitting of it’s holder. “May I have a moment outside?”

With a sinking feeling, Hubert turned to lock eyes with Volkhard Arundel, smiling lecherously down at him where he sat. Of course, Arundel would choose a joyous celebration to shatter Hubert’s resolve. Moments before, Edelgard had stood to give a rousing speech about their victories, and about Ferdinand’s unmatched bravery, both in life and combat, which had caused a rather amusing blush to creep across freckled cheeks. Of course, he would take time from his day to ruin this for Hubert. It was possibly the first time any of them had seen Ferdinand act bashfully, and brought about hooting and hollering from Caspar and Dorothea. For once, Hubert didn’t mind their indecency, the celebration around him had somehow reached his heart, and many around him actually had seen him smile for the first time.

“Please go on ahead,” he responded stiffly, keeping his face cold and unfeeling towards Lord Arundel. His smile stretched wider at that, making Hubert wonder if he would throw up right then and there, in front of everyone celebrating. “I’ll follow you shortly.” And with that, Volkhard Arundel slithered away towards the doors leading to the gardens. Hubert let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding in, composing himself just in time for Edelgard to turn away from her chat with Dorothea to eye him curiously. “What was that about?” she asked, tilting her head with a mildly suspicious look in her eyes. She had often hounded him about the dealings he had with her uncle, how he was able to keep him distracted enough for Edelgard to make moves without his knowledge.

“Just something to do with his troops,” Hubert lied. “It’s nothing I can’t handle with a quick, easy chat, Your Majesty.” 

Hubert stood, bowing towards her with his trademark smirk, and was glad to see that she seemed to accept such an answer. Turning, he made his way through the throng of soldiers and staff enjoying the celebration and reveling in the music drifting through the air. How he wished he could be as carefree and momentarily distractly like the rest of them. While most envied him for his position, raw power and wealth, they would most definitely be shocked to know that Hubert von Vestra envied them just as much. What a life he could live if he and Edelgard did not have the responsibility to reassemble all of Fodlan, to carry the weight of a nation, to knowingly shed blood for their cause. Hubert shook the thought from his mind as he reached the doorway, taking a breath before stepping out, knowing what was to come. Volkhard always did like to be the dominant man in all walks of life.

The moment the cool autumn air rushed forward to meet Hubert’s burning cheeks, a black gloved hand reached out to grab him by the jaw, with another grasping at his waist, before he was shoved rather roughly against the stone wall behind him. The air in Hubert’s lungs was unceremoniously knocked from him, and he struggled not to make a sound of pain. If anyone could see him now, they would wonder if it was truly Hubert. It took the utmost strength every time he met with Lord Arundel to hold back his natural reaction, to suppress the welling dark magic that crackled dangerously around gloved hands as he was tossed around. This was just part of the job. It had always been, meeting the needs and desires of whichever lecherous noble manhandled him.

Rough, chapped lips crashed painfully against his own, and he felt his own front tooth slice into his bottom lip. The taste of coppery, magic tainted blood filled his mouth, despite the shallow wound. Of course this was how it would taste. Arundel lathed his tongue over the cut, sucking roughly at Hubert’s lip as a hand palmed at the front of Hubert’s trousers. Of course, he became somehow rougher when he realised that Hubert was soft. How could he not be? The suddenness of the exchange had thrown Hubert for a loop and his body was refusing to react. With a grunt, Arundel pulled away, keeping his face inches from Hubert’s. 

“Come to my chambers later,” he hummed, icy blue eyes meeting with Hubert’s widened pale green ones, a look of annoyance and lust hazing them. “And make sure you’ve taken care of this little issue, _whore_.” As he spoke, he brought a hand up to grasp Hubert's shoulder, giving it a painful squeeze, a silent threat. With that, he turned and began marching in the direction of the dorms, leaving Hubert leaning against the wall for support.

The moment his figure faded out of the evening moonlight, Hubert let out a choked sob and slid down the wall, sitting on the cold cobblestone as he caught his breath. Slowly, he let his head rest in gloved palms, trying to calm his nerves. Never in a lifetime would Hubert let anyone see this weaker side of him, never would he allow anyone to see such a weakness. But it always came after a rendezvous with whoever was using him at the moment. He couldn’t help it. Thirteen years of acting as the courtesan to most of the Adrestian Empire, and he still was not over the shock and the dirty feelings of terror and helplessness that came along with it. No matter how he tried to act like it did not bother him either way, it was painful, knowing the hands of others until he died would bare the touch of someone who did not love him, but wanted to use him.

As he fought for control, biting back haggard breaths and welling tears, there was a sound of rustling and footsteps falling. Before he had much time to react, he saw black boots next to him and warm arms wrapping around his body. The sweet smell of strawberries and a floral perfume enveloped him, and he felt himself being pulled against a sturdy, yet soft chest. There was a tickle against his cheek, and his eyes moved to stare at blazing ginger curls against his face. At that, Hubert stiffened. It couldn’t be, he thought, but in his mind he knew it to be true. Ferdinand had found him, and was attempting to comfort him.

As quickly as the embrace happened, Hubert ended it. He pulled away, feeling like a fool as he fell awkwardly backwards onto his ass. Of course he would make himself a fool farther in front of the man of the hour. Ferdinand stared down at him with sympathy and pain written plainly across his face. Hubert’s heart sank. He knew. He’d seen everything that had transpired between Hubert and Lord Arundel, no matter how brief it had been. His mind flashed to a younger Ferdinand von Aegir, offering to help him after Hubert had partially explained his situation all those years ago. He knew.

“Hubert, _oh my dear Hubert_ ,” Ferdinand said, his tone somber and… heartbroken. Something fluttered in Hubert’s chest at the realisation. Ferdinand seemed rather heartbroken as he stared down at Hubert, reaching a hand down to him. What Hubert would give to scream at him to stop taking pity on him and just go back into the revelry and dancing that Hubert had spent the past month planning for him. To leave him alone and cold in the shadows where he belonged, a disgusting wretch of a man with no backbone. But he didn’t, instead, he reached for the hand. His body betrayed him, allowing Ferdinand to lift him to his feet and resume holding him. 

Ferdinand had gotten taller, but not enough to be taller than Hubert, which meant that Hubert’s head leaned just right on his shoulder, buried in those luscious ginger curls once more. The mere smell of him made Hubert dizzy, lightheaded from the contact. Hubert hated being touched by anyone, yet something in Ferdinand’s tender embrace brought him back despite himself. How uncharacteristic it must’ve seemed to Ferdinand, but he did not show any sign of shock, just a tender, almost loving look at the man in his arms. “Hubert, _please_ ,” he began, his voice rough and wavering. His arms squeezed a little tighter around Hubert. “Please talk to me, please let me help you.”

Hubert’s mind began to race as he met Ferdinand’s amber eyes, shining in the moonlight. The current full moon shone upon his face, causing a halo of sorts. The pale, blue light on such a beautiful, bright face, often golden hued and proud, well… Hubert found the sight of it downright intoxicating. There was a tension in the air as the pair of them stared at each other. Ferdinand’s eyes searched across Hubert’s exposed face, and he seemed to be leaning forward to drink it all in. Hubert’s eyes fluttered with the weight of such tension and admiration, and he felt his lips parting as they came closer together.

But their moment together, taking every inch of each other in, was cut short when the sound of a door opening and boots rushing across the pavement with wild abandon filled the air. As if electrified, the pair of them broke apart, turning to stare. It was Byleth, mossy green hair shimmering in the moonlight as she braced a hand against the hedge to balance herself. Hubert snaked a hand around Ferdinand’s waist as he pulled them more into the shadows, holding his free hand up to his lips to signal silence. Moving his eyes back to their Professor, he watched as she let out a strangled sob. It had been like this for the month she’d been back in their lives, since he and Edelgard had explained the state of the world, the state of the church, and the state of Seteth. It had been rather obvious to the students in all houses that there had been something between the two of them during their time at the academy. Stolen glances, walks through the garden and cathedral together, dinner time spent smiling with Seteth and Flayn, visits to each other’s offices… there had been genuine joy and love there that Hubert had not understood.

The moment she found out that Seteth had been turned against her by Rhea and her twisted ideals, that he held nothing for her but genuine distaste and disappointment, something seemed to break within her. Edelgard had spoken to him about it many times, concerned and panicked that it was a mistake to even speak of the Professor’s former paramour. But he knew their teacher, their guardian better than that. The heartbreak, the despair of it all, she would use that to fight fiercely. But it would take time. While he was impatient for them to focus on more important things, like the future of all of Fodlan, he had been scolded by Bernadetta, of all people. “Heartbreak takes time, she said she had never truly felt love for anyone before they met,” she had told him, looking saddened by the decoupling of their teachers. 

Beside him, Ferdinand stiffened, having not seen their strong, normally emotionless teacher show so much emotion in a moment. He gripped at Hubert’s hand that was still around his waist, looking stricken by the scene. Across the garden, Byleth choked out another sob and began rushing in the direction of the dorms, no doubt to cry in her own room, as she had been doing for the previous nights. Once she was out of sight, Hubert turned to stare at Ferdinand cautiously. “We had to tell her about Seteth and Flayn, she’s still recovering…” he explained meekly, a blush making its way across his pale, gaunt features. Now that they were alone once more, nothing but the sounds of their breathing and the muffled party through the wall they stood against filling the air, Hubert felt self conscious. He had finally broken to someone, and of course it had to be Ferdinand von Aegir, who would no doubt use this later during one of their infamous fights. He had truly ruined their fragile friendship, made himself known as a weak, disgusting creature and Ferdinand, he would-

“Hubert, would you walk with me?” Ferdinand’s voice broke through his frantic voice, and Hubert looked up to see him looking at Hubert with such a valiant expression and an arm held out for Hubert to take that he wondered for a moment how the most revered knight in the Adrestian Empire, looking noble and angelic, could make his heart twist like this. It wasn’t as if Hubert did or could hold any romantic feelings for him, after all. Still, Hubert nodded and slipped an arm through his.

Ferdinand set the pace, making his way from the garden and onto the path leading from the Entrance Hall and into the empty Reception Hall. Ferdinand seemed to effortlessly support Hubert as they walked through the hall in silence, occasionally rubbing a thumb across his arm with the hand that clutched his arm. The sensation was so soft, so gentle, Hubert felt himself struggling to stand and not melt into the marble floor under them. Never, in his twenty five years had anyone touched him like this, so lovingly. He felt his head swim as he turned to stare at Ferdinand’s face in the dim lighting. He looked godly, and had grown into himself in the past three years since Hubert had seen him, shockingly so. Where he had once had cropped ginger waves, he now had long, thick ginger curls that cascaded down his broad shoulders effortlessly. His jawline had become tauter, his chest wider and more defined, his legs showed off years of horseback riding. He was truly a vision. Perhaps this was why Hubert felt himself allowing Ferdinand to see him in despair and comfort him without a second thought.

“Is there something on my face?” Ferdinand asked, keeping his eyes forward as they pushed through the closed doors leading to the massive bridge that connected the cathedral and the monastery. Hubert noticed a playful smile playing at his lips as he spoke.

“I apologise, it’s been so long since I have had the opportunity to see you,” Hubert responded, cursing himself internally at how meek and bashful he sounded. He truly wondered why he was here and allowing this to happen. As if reading his mind, Ferdinand slowly stroked at Hubert’s arm as if to soothe him and his head began to spin once more. Oh, yes, that was why. Ferdinand had completely gotten Hubert under his spell. The sweet smell of strawberries and jasmine filled his senses once more and Hubert felt his body lean slightly against the stronger man. Ferdinand supported him without hesitation.

There was a comfortable silence as they made their way to the empty, discarded cathedral. It had been barely used during the time the Imperial Army had been stationed there. Yes, occasionally people went there to pray to the goddess, stripped of the weight of the teachings of Seiros. There were still the few around them that remained faithful not to the Archbishop, but to the true meaning of their goddess. Being the considerate Emperor she was, Edelgard felt it fair to allow them to remain faithful while keeping a watchful eye on their actions, due to Hubert’s urging. The least she could do was allow some of his spies to keep tight grips on what those around them were doing. Despite how he felt about organised religion after finding out what was happening behind closed doors, Hubert couldn’t deny that, even in a shambled state, the architecture of Garreg Mach was a sight to behold. While some of the pieces had fallen out of their frame during the initial siege of the monastery five years prior, the beautifully crafted stained glass at the head of the cavernous cathedral stood before them, moonlight shining behind it and causing dancing colour to spread throughout the empty room. In that comfortable silence they shared, Ferdinand had led them into the centre of the cathedral. 

“Oh, my,” Ferdinand spoke, stopping them short and turning to look up into Hubert’s curious gaze. He used his free arm to lift a hand to his hair, tucking it behind an ear. It took a surprising amount of effort for Hubert to not gasp aloud at the sight of the blues, greens and pinks shining across his tanned skin. “I had not paid attention to where I was going. I was simply so caught up in walking along with you."

There was a tug in Hubert’s chest, which pulled tightly when he pulled his arm free to face Ferdinand properly, still keeping an unnaturally close proximity to the general’s overwhelming body heat. Ferdinand stared up at him as he did so, a pleased smile across his face and an expectant look in his amber eyes, staring up through thick ginger lashes. Thoughts raced through his mind as his eyes wandered Ferdinand’s. Why was he here? How had Ferdinand broken his meticulously curated exterior and brought him along with him, away from his troubles? What now? Had Ferdinand’s lips always been so plump? Would they taste like the strawberries he smelled like? They looked velvety, would they feel so as well? When had Ferdinand grown so broad, so god-like, _so_ … 

Hubert didn’t have time to consider what was happening, suddenly feeling his body move as he began pulling Ferdinand forward and bringing his lips down to devour the other man’s. Ferdinand met him enthusiastically, and Hubert could feel him shift within his arms, standing on his toes to meet him comfortably and snaking his strong arms around his neck to lace his hands within his cropped black hair. He felt himself thrill when Ferdinand let out a surprised, yet pleased hum on his lips, even more so when the gentle nip he gave a gentle tug with his bottom teeth and Ferdinand moaned. What a deliciously scandalous noise coming from someone so composed and noble, and how he wished to make more of those noises come to the surface.

But just as he pulled free from the kiss to move his way down to Ferdinand’s neck, he heard the sounds of boots and laughter coming closer, and moved Ferdinand into a tighter embrace to pull them deeper into the shadows of the Saint’s Room. Breathless and startled, Ferdinand let out a yelp that was stifled quickly by Hubert’s gloved hand. Keeping an eye on the main cathedral, he lifted a finger to his lips. 

Out of the darkness of the evening came Caspar von Bergliez, tugging along a breathless and flushed Linhardt von Hevring. The pair of them were giggling like schoolboys as they stopped just short of the end of the pews, drunkenly pawing at one another while their lips met. Caspar was quickly, nearly expertly, undoing the clasps on the front of Linhardt’s robes while Linhardt lazily hung his head back to expose his neck to his lover’s lips. In the moonlight, his emerald green waves dropped off of his shoulders and down to hang behind him, seeming to add a certain something to his blissed expression. In this light, in that position, Hubert finally understood why all of their former classmates would say Linhardt looked curiously enough like the statue of Saint Cethleann that stood behind him. Sighing contentedly, Linhardt spoke as his robes dropped to the ground and Caspar began sliding his hands up and under his undershirt. “Oh, my love, I really have missed you dearl- _ah_!” he cried out, hands finding purchase on the back of Caspar’s head the moment Caspar visibly bit down on his exposed flesh. Hubert’s eyes widened as he watched Caspar lift Linhardt onto his hips, continuing to ravage the normally stoic and expressionless mage as he staggered to one of the pillars, where he pressed him up to continue grinding and kissing wildly. 

With a gentle pink making its way across his cheeks, Hubert averted his eyes, shocked that they would do such a thing in a place like this, so exposed. Especially considering Linhardt’s place as an incredibly skilled user of faith magic and a bearer of one of the saint’s crests. Next to him, Ferdinand was staring wide eyed, with a hand pulled over his mouth. It took a moment for Hubert to realise that he was stifling an amused laugh. When he caught Hubert staring, he leaned back into Hubert’s arms to whisper to him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to listen to his words or focus on his face, given the pleased, drunken, and positively salacious moaning leaving Linhardt’s lips whenever Caspar had taken a break from devouring them hungrily. He pressed a hand to his temple, squeezing his eyes shut. Never in his lifetime did he want to hear such noises from someone he was working closely with.

“It looks like this is a place most lovers go,” Ferdinand said with a breathy giggle, his lips mere inches from Hubert’s ear. The feeling of his laughter washing over his skin caused a small shiver down his spine. “I knew those two always had something going on, it really was only a matter of time.”

But something about his words caused a start to go through Hubert. _**Lovers**_. The word hung in the air between them, louder than the scandalous scene behind them, and Hubert felt his stomach drop out from under him. Was that what Ferdinand considered such a confusing night that they had been going through? Hubert didn’t know what to think of it. As the emotions flit across his dark features, Ferdinand began looking concerned. He began to reach a hand up to touch Hubert’s flushed cheek, but Hubert caught his wrist before contact could be made and made quick work of getting them out of there with a warp spell. Across the cathedral, a half naked and breathless Caspar and Linhardt stopped, looking curiously at the spot where they had just been.

Ferdinand gasped and broke free of Hubert the moment their feet touched the wooden floors of the second floor dormitories, right outside of Ferdinand’s door. Across from him, Hubert stared at him, his features dark once more. “Ferdinand, I request you please remove this night from your memory,” he said, and for some reason his chest tugged uncomfortably at the sight of Ferdinand’s hurt expression. He shook his head, strawberry blonde locks jostling free of his shoulders as he did so. He reached his hands to Hubert, palms up, and Hubert had to steel himself at the sight of it. Ferdinand von Aegir really had grown into an angelic man during their time apart. He took a step back, holding up a hand in response. “Please, do not.”

Those were the final words he spoke before he turned sharply on his heel and began to ascend the stairs to the third floor above them. Hubert marched silently, feeling pained as he made his way to what had formerly been Seteth’s quarters, now his to sleep in near his Emperor. He closed the door quickly, leaning against it with a rough sigh escaping his lips. For the first time in his life, Hubert von Vestra ran away from his feelings, from his Ferdinand, and from the truth. It was not something he found himself used to. He moved from the door, gathering himself up enough to begin undressing for bed, wondering what he had done to have someone like Ferdinand in his life. Someone who seemed so genuinely concerned about his wellbeing. After another uneven sigh, he sat along the edge of his bed, holding his face in his hands. Ferdinand truly did deserve better than to feel anything for such a lowly creature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for reading! let me know what you thought! :) make sure to follow me on twitter @chaadspar for any updates, or just general fire emblem: three houses shenanigans!! new chapter should be up by next week!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! let me know what you thought! :) make sure to follow me on twitter @roamnginstigatr for any new work updates, or just general fire emblem: three houses shenanigans!! new chapter should be up by next week!


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